The Plague
by Adarian
Summary: AU: An airborne infection has spread throughout Ferelden, decimating the population. The Grey Wardens take control over the country as they search for a cure. Three young elven women are forced among their ranks as test subjects. Others survive as well in the walled city of Gwaren, one last stronghold as the world falls apart. Written as a kink-meme request
1. Summer 1

There is no moralizing like the moralizing of the damned.

_For Those Who Hunt The Wounded Down_, David Adams Richards

_Summer_

**1**

Like many illnesses, the first sign was a feeling of unease. Victims felt a strange sense of anxiety creeping into their bodies, their heartbeats running slightly too fast, their mouths drying slightly too quickly after a drink.

Aria Tabris did not think much of it at first. Her father had been nervous about her upcoming marriage, but they both had. The letters back and forth had promised a dashing young man, a strong man. Nelaros sounded of someone who Aria could find herself falling deeply in love with. She was a little embarrassed to have developed a crush on someone she had yet to meet. When her heart raced beneath her skin, she thought it only the excitement. Skipped beats and missed breaths slipped past her mind.

Nelaros had moved in with them shortly after the wedding. They spent a week in her father's home before Nelaros carried her across the threshold of their own house. It was a small place, big enough for them and their first child. It was in that first month the cough started. Just a tickle at the back of her throat, just a flush of pink in her cheeks. When Nelaros grew sick as well, they spent a few days in bed, cuddling under the blankets as they sweated out the illness, ignoring the rest of the world. Eventually, Aria grew stronger and left her sickly husband in bed, his heart beat fading to her touch. She was going to find a healer when she opened the door and saw the Alienage. The sick and dying lined the streets, the smell of death hanging in the air like incense at the Chantry.

Aria threw up in the bushes. Her knees shook slightly as she made her way back to her father's house. She could not find either of her cousins, but saw her father curled underneath the blankets, shivering. She carried his weak frame in her arms back to her own home, bringing him in to lie with Nelaros in their bed. She had gone back to the kitchen to begin a broth when there were feeble knocks on the door.

She opened the door to see three small children, their voices mixing together as they pleaded for help. Aria brought them inside, lying them down by the fire as she looked for more blankets. As the day continued, she found more children at her door. The word spread quickly that one of the adults had gotten healthier, that they might live yet. She fed the ones she could, keeping them indoors as the summer rains began to fall around them.

The days blended together as the storm continued. She could not tell the days apart as they died around her, their hearts in turn stopping. Nelaros passed quietly in his sleep, her father finally closed his eyes in her arms. The plague picked off those in her care, one by one. She prayed for the Maker to take her too, for her suffering to be over.

But every day she woke up and she kept breathing, her heart beating.

And one of those days, after being alone for so long, she heard the shouting out in the streets. She raced outside, armed with merely a dagger. She had no one left to protect but herself.

She saw the five men on horseback, their blue and silver armour distinct against the carnage around them. She heard one order the others to capture her.

Aria was too weak to struggle, making only a halfhearted attempt to cut through a man's armour. She eventually was brought to the leader, an older man who examined her with great care.

"Is she infected?" He asked an elven woman beside him. The woman placed her hand on Aria's forehead and replied, "She was. Her body has cured itself."

"Bring her along," he stated, "We need another specimen."

Aria tried to speak, but instead, tears streamed down her face. The man pulled her into his saddle, holding her like he would a child, and they rode out of the Alienage.

They captured Juin Mahariel in the forests outside Denerim as she ran to find help. Two days ago she had left the clan, carrying the body of her bonded mate in her arms. The keeper was dead, her first disappeared. Juin was still strong enough to run, strong enough to find another clan. The sickness had not claimed her as the others. They warned her she would spread the disease to other clans, but she did not care. Tamlen was dying.

When she first saw the shemlens, she thought she had found help.

They ripped the dying body from her arms as she screamed at them in Elvish. She remembered being knocked into the mud, watching Tamlen being thrown to the ground.

The elven woman grasped her chin and muttered a few words to the commander. Mahariel cried out for Tamlen, and he weakly looked up at her, his hand out stretched.

"He's dead anyways," the woman replied, ignoring her tears.

Noam Surana knew almost immediately that she was immune to the plague. All it took was one sick Templar and the Tower was infected. All other Circles had shut down in time it was said; only this one would be lost. They waited for the Rite of Annulment, since soon there would not be enough Templars to care for the dying mages.

For two weeks, they waited, but no word came.

For two weeks, Surana slept in his arms. Who would say a word against them when they thought the world was ending? For two weeks, she listened to the beat of his heart against her ear, listened to his steady breath.

Yet when the Wardens came, storming through the gates of the Tower, they only took her, leaving Cullen to kneel by the door, his head in his hands after they tore her from him.

The elven woman smiled at her sympathetically, taking her arm as they led her into the boat.

"Your sweetheart will live, do not worry, child. He has no plague," she said kindly, "He is very handsome. He reminds me of a young man I used to know."

"Who are you?" Noam asked, hands shaking.

"My name is Fiona, of the Grey Wardens. I have been sent here to save Ferelden."


	2. Summer 2

**2**

Aria woke in a makeshift tent, shivering in the cold. She remembered the trip south only vaguely. She touched her wedding band in quiet pity. She was a widow now. How long she was, she did not know.

Aria looked around, seeing two other elven women sleeping in bedrolls beside her. One's face was covered in intricate tattoos, the other's head was shaven. Both seemed to be sleeping peacefully so she did not disturb them. Her arm ached unpleasantly, and she glanced down, seeing the bruises run up and down her skin. She could not remember if she had these before the voyage south.

Aria grabbed her jacket and walked outside, several faces turning to her from the camp fire side. The man who had captured her, Duncan, walked to her side, taking her hand in his as she startled.

"It is good to see you up and walking around. We had to do a few of the tests while you were sleeping, I'm afraid. I apologize for the bruising. You fought us off a little bit too hard. I'll have Fiona take a look at time when she has time."

"What is this place?" Tabris asked, glancing around at the ruins.

"Ostagar," he replied, "A fine old fortress. The ground is high here and we have a good view of the valley below. The Wardens have decided to convene here before making our way to Gwaren. It will be easier there to survive the winter. You may have noticed your two companions. We'll be comparing our results soon. Fiona is very optimistic."

"What are the Grey Wardens doing investigating plague?" She asked.

Duncan waved her over to the side of the camp, gesturing to lines of stretchers, filled with the weak and dying.

"This disease lies in darkspawn blood. Their taint has spread and among us it has changed. It is quickly killing us. It has spread even out of Ferelden, in Orlais, in the Anderfels…it threatens Thedas itself. My kind are…exempt from it. But what has cured us will not work on the lay people. But you have survived. Your body cured itself. What lies in your blood may save the rest of us."

"And the other two?"

"The same. We have found three non-Wardens who have survived. There may be more, surely there are."

"But we are three no one will miss," Aria finished.

Duncan bowed his head, "This country is falling apart. The king is dead, much of the army gone. We must take who we can find. We must be vigilant and act quickly."

Both turned their heads as the tattooed woman was dragged from the tent, baring her teeth as two Wardens pushed her forward into another structure.

"And if we will not cooperate?" Tabris asked softly.

"I advise you to do so. We have all lost family, friends. Must more die?"

"What do you want from us?"

"Full cooperation. When we reach Gwaren, we will set up better housing. We will winter there, since it will be better barricaded against the taint. I did not take you for my amusement. I took you because I knew you could survive."

Mahariel bit into the Warden's arm, scratching as the mage drew her blood. She was restrained, pushed into the chair as the mage examined her eyes and throat.

Mahariel snarled as Fiona' hands went to her slightly protruding belly.

"Don't touch me," Juin threatened.

"The child's father was the one you were found with," she stated, "And you conceived a few months ago, before the plague started. You have carried this child this long without incident?"

"There was some spotting," Juin admitted, bowing her head.

"This is a good sign," Fiona replied, patting her arm before turning to her assistants, "This one is strong, maybe stronger than the other two. Please, Stuart, hand me that green vial there. Now, child, you will have to stay very still or this could hurt both you and the baby."

"Don't you dare touch me," Mahariel shouted, pushed back into the chair. She watched in horror as a needle filled with the dark black fluid and was plunged into her neck.

"The mage is dangerous unbound," the young Warden warned Duncan as they made their way into the forest, scouring the perimeter.

"She has been the most cooperative of the three, Alistair," Duncan replied, "I do not think we need to treat her as a prisoner."

"She did not contract the plague at all," Alistair replied, "She is the most valuable out of the three of them and the hardest to contain. She should be collared, and we both know it."

"I know you have been trained to fear her, I understand. But she understands what duty means. You will leave the mage be unless she shows signs of aggression. Do you understand me?"

Alistair scoffed and nodded, "Fine."

Duncan paused, "Do you sense that?"

Alistair frowned, "We need to get back to camp. Now."

Noam shuffled out of the tree she had been hiding in, dashing back to the ground as the two Wardens ran back into the camp. She smelt the sulfur before she saw the flames growing from the tents. She felt the urge to run, but she thought of the other two captives. Perhaps it was mistaken solidarity, but Surana refused to leave them.

She rushed into the camp as the Wardens went after the darkspawn. She saw the Dalish woman drugged and tied to the centre of their tent. Surana cut her binds and helped her to her feet. She leaned into Surana, holding on as her feet dragged slightly across the ground.

The two made it into the camp, seeing a small ring of Grey Wardens forming around them in a protective circle. Surana put her hand up in a symbol of defeat.

"The woman from the Alienage is missing," she said, "You should find here."

She sat on the ground, hoping the third companion had gotten safely away. But even if she had…where would she go? She was a city elf, with little experience in the wider world. Still, if Surana ran, she was an apostate. Perhaps she technically was already now. There was no Circle to bring her to.

The Dalish woman rested her head on Surana's shoulder, moaning in a way that sounded animalistic, like a wounded deer crying for the herd. Surana put her arm around her and waited.

Aria had been strapped into the chair as the darkspawn made their way into the camp. She looked up in panic at Fiona, who ran out with the others into the camp. Tabris struggled in her bonds, attempting to bite through the leather. When she saw a shadow approach the tent, she tried to scream for help.

One of the mages from earlier appeared to her sight and he cut through the binds with a hidden dagger. His shaggy blonde head came down to look her in the eye as he whispered, "Get the hell out of here. Run."

Tabris did not think twice before dashing out of the tent and into the fray. She grabbed the dagger the mage had left, brandishing it as a genlock grew closer. The mage blasted it back with a wave of fire.

She glanced back at him as he replied, "I'm coming with you. You're not the only one who wants out of this hell hole."

Tabris was about to protest as a slew of arrows poured into the camp and the mage pushed her on the ground, throwing a barrier up around them.

"Okay," she agreed as he helped her to her feet, "But I'm going to need a better sword."

Tabris spied a shriek and threw her blade, causing the creature to fall to the ground. She pulled out the dagger, as the mage smirked.

"You seem to be doing just fine. Come on, the eastern perimeter is down. We can get out into the Kochari Wilds. Follow me."

Tabris followed him without a further question, chasing after the mage into the wilderness. She went first over the ill constructed fence, offering her hand to him as he followed her, tumbling to the ground.

He brushed off his robes, "I'm fine. Let's go."

They ran for a few hours until they came to a hut in a clearing in the forest. Tabris knocked on the door and upon hearing no reply, picked the lock and let themselves in. It was a simple place, but there was a bed and a fireplace. They could hide out here for a while, at least long enough to figure out what to do next.

Her blonde companion flopped on the bed, his energy spent from fighting off the darkspawn that had chased them. Tabris ignored him, scanning through the texts on the simple bookcase in the corner. She vaguely wondered where the inhabitants were, but she was too tired and hungry to care too much.

She turned to the bed, "Mage, you might be interested in some of these books. I think apostates lived out here. Maybe you can learn something useful."

"I have a name, you know."

"Anders isn't a real name. You wouldn't call me Fereledy. When you give a real name, then I'll call you that."

"Ouch. Anyways, I would be more interested in food right now. So unless one of them is a cookbook…"

Tabris rolled her eyes and went to the next set of cupboards, "There's a few jars of pickles and that's about it. I think the owners packed up before they shipped out. I can't blame them. I wouldn't exactly want to go hunting in the Wilds right now."

"You're going to have to at some point."

"Me?" Tabris laughed, "I've lived in a city my entire life. The closest I've ever come to hunting is throwing rocks at angry dogs. I think you might have wanted the Dalish girl for your great escape."

"Well, you were the prettiest one."

Tabris smirked, "Nice try. I'm a married woman, don't press your luck."

Anders replied, "Honestly, I didn't think this through so well. I wanted to make a run for it and I felt guilty about you being tied up and left for the darkspawn. You also seem to be great for foraging for pickles. I think I did alright."

Tabris pulled out the jar and came to sit on the bed with him.

"So what's the plan now?" She asked.

"We can hide here until we get old, grey, and fat. In the meantime, we will fall passionately in love and start repopulating the world."

"And Plan B?"

Anders shrugged, "Maybe we'll try to find another convoy, find a ship somewhere. I don't know."

"Very helpful."

Anders bit into a pickle, the juice trickling unattractively into his stubble. Tabris giggled slightly.

"Let's worry about that in the morning," he said, "At least we get one more day of freedom."

"You didn't seem to be having much to run from."

"I wasn't exactly a willing recruit to the Grey Wardens," Anders replied, "But it was that or be annulled with the rest of the Circle. They grabbed quite a few of us right before all of this started. They wanted healers, even the naughty ones who run away. Now that the plague has hit…I did want to help, but…"

"But?"

"I'm not exactly thrilled about some things, let's just say that."

Tabris laid down on the bed, "I'm tired and I've been sleeping on the ground for days. You can sleep in here, but no funny business."

"I'm nothing but a gentleman."

Tabris smirked as she closed her eyes.


	3. Summer 3

**3**

The battle had ended in the early hours of the morning. Juin had stayed awake as the others tried to rest, holding the mage woman in her arms as she tried to sleep. With her dark hair and bright green eyes, she reminded her of Merrill. If she could not keep her blood sister safe, at least this flatear would make it through the night.

Juin kept her other hand on her belly, hoping for the return of the familiar fluttering of her child's presence. But she felt nothing.

The third of them was brought back in the early morning, dragged by her wrists, and a blonde man pulled behind her on the same rope. Mahariel wanted to like this Tabris, but the stunt she had pulled would only bring consequences to the rest. She reminded Juin a little of herself before...before...

Juin did not like to sleep anymore. The dreams of Tamlen hurt too much. Her mate was left to die, alone and cold in a ditch on the side of a shemlen road. She had wanted to die with him, but the little flutter in her belly reminded her to move forward.

Oh gods, she was afraid.

Tabris was thrown into the tent with them, causing the mage to waken and stir.

As steady as Mahariel could, she said, "We will be going south at dusk. You should get some rest while you can. It will be a long march."

"You," Surana accused, "I could have run, but I came back for you. Both of you. You would so easily abandon your sisters?"

Tabris scowled, "You are no kin of mine. If you weren't scared, you would have run to save your own skin. The Dalish knows what I mean. This isn't cooperation. This is war. They will kill us off as easily as those darkspawn if they need to. I'm just sorry I didn't get away fast enough."

Mahariel agreed, "We are not safe with them."

Surana protested, "This is for the greater good."

"This is the end of days," Tabris replied, softer, "And we are here, stranded from our kin and under shem control. Do you mean to tell me you would not rather be elsewhere?"

Surana paused, bowing her head.

Tabris replied, "I will ally with you both if that's what you wish. I have no quarrel with you."

"Let's go to Gwaren," Mahariel responded, "Perhaps they are right and it is safer to winter there. There is safety in numbers and I wish to survive."

Tabris looked to Surana who still did not speak.

"You're not in the Tower anymore," Tabris said, "You can speak your mind."

"I think we should do what we need to for Ferelden," Surana said quietly, "There's so few of us left. I think we lost the right to be selfish."

Tabris shook her head, "I'm getting some rest. You should too, Dalish. Your baby and you will feel better if you do."

Mahariel nodded, the weariness becoming apparent to her body. She closed her eyes, lying beside the mage. She smiled as she rested, the fluttering returning in her belly. She stroked her stomach, humming quietly to her babe as she fell asleep.


	4. Fall 1

**1**

It had been a long journey to Gwaren.

The three women had survived through the testing and were some of the last admitted to the now walled-off city of the South. Once the fortifications were complete and the Wardens had taken over the regency, the city shut itself down, only allowing those who could prove that they were untainted.

The former Teryn of Gwaren had protested at first, not wanting Warden control to influence his lands. But in the end, what did it matter? Loghain Mac Tir was one of the few nobles left alive. He had little power left as the country fell to Warden control.

It was a cool morning when Tabris was in the courtyard's marketplace. Food was becoming scarce and prices were rising quickly. She and the other two had a small stipend from the Wardens in exchange for their cooperation. Unlike the other two, Tabris had experience dealing with money and was in charge of buying their supplies. She went down once a week to the market and then went back to the small apartment allowed to them as part of the Teryn's castle in the servant's quarters.

It was as she went to the baker that she heard the gates opening. Most turned their heads, since the city had been completely locked down for the past three days. There had been a large darkspawn horde and only Wardens had been allowed past the wall.

A large envoy came into the courtyard, at least three dozen people with caravans and goods. The people flocked to it, looking for lost kin and news. Tabris hesitated; she had no one left.

It was the grey creature who caught her eye, his silver hair torn and matted, splattered with darkspawn blood. His head was bowed, his eyes closed, as he was pulled forward in his chains.

She watched with curiosity as he disappeared into the crowd. A woman beside her whispered , "Good. They finally caught one of the bastards." She spat on the ground, and Tabris stepped away from her.

She went back to her shopping, finding a specific herb that Mahariel had been craving. When she was returning to the Teryn's estate, she saw the scene in the royal courtyard.

The creature was brought to the centre, alleviated on a platform that the Wardens often used in announcements. He was bound to a pole in the middle, his captors rallying the crowd around him.

"You see before you the enemy!" One shouted, "The vile heathens of the south! They dare come to our lands now, bringing plague and sickness! They poison our water until we pray to their pagan god! But see! See that they are just men! See that they bleed!"

The creature did not stir, his eyes closed in concentration as his accuser continued.

"See there is no power in the Qun! Because of the strength of the Maker, we have killed them and I will kill this one before you in tribute to the murdered Cailain. The blood of Andraste is stronger than his heathen blood. The Qunari will pay!"

The man took his blade out, bringing it forward into the air. Without thinking, Tabris dropped her goods and pushed her way through the crowd, screaming, "Stop!"

The man paused with a smirk, "And we have one of the Wardens' concubines. What is it, darling, are you looking for a new pet?"

"He is bound and abused," Tabris replied, "Even the Chasind treat prisoners better than this. Give him to the Teryn. To the Wardens. Have we degraded ourselves so much that we execute our enemies in the streets?"

Tabris had pulled herself to the platform, pushing aside another man to face her opposition.

The man laughed, "You're a spunky little thing, aren't you? Now move aside, girl, unless you would have me cut you down too."

"Go ahead and try," Tabris growled.

"Enough!"

The crowd parted as the Teryn pushed through them and to the platform. The other men backed off, leaving Tabris and the executioner.

"Jory," Loghain ordered, "This does not befit a man of the King. Report to your barracks now."

Loghain's eyes met hers. She did not look down.

"And you," Loghain continued, "I will be taking the Qunari into custody. Unless you have any other objections?"

"He must receive medical attention," Tabris demanded.

"I am not a monster, girl. Go home before you get yourself in more trouble."

Tabris fumed, but nodded, gathering her overturned basket and remaining groceries. Loghain signaled his men to move forward and knelt by her in the street, picking up a trampled piece of lettuce.

"I will send one of my servants with food for you and the others," Loghain said, "Please. Return home."

Tabris ignored his offer, picked up her goods, and marched back to her apartment.


	5. Fall 2

**2**

Loghain returned to his office, rubbing his forehead. It had been a waste of effort, protecting that Qunari. He knew the Wardens would soon take him from his grasp. They had been looking for a kossith to experiment on when the Qunari began appearing a month beforehand. The kossith were immune to the plague, and those who converted to the Qun were said to be miraculously cured. He knew the Chantry must be behind the propaganda that had brought the poor creature into the courtyard. The heathen poisoners indeed. Loghain's suspicions lay elsewhere, but he had no justification and had no power to act.

When he arrived, he saw three Wardens waiting for him. Duncan stretched out his hand to greet him, but Loghain ignored the gesture.

"What do you need, Warden?" He grumbled.

"There's someone in the convoy you'll want to see. He wasn't allowed in with the others. He claims he's Nathaniel Howe."

Loghain cursed, "And he's got the damn disease, does he?"

"We can keep him in isolation in the Warden camp. Or…"

Loghain ran his hand through his hair. He had not been saddened by Rendon's death to say the least, but he could not imagine killing his son. He remembered him as a rather stern child. The young Howe had often reminded Loghain of himself.

"Let me talk to him."

"Respectfully, sir, if you were to risk exposure…"

"I am no puppet ruler, Duncan. Let me see the boy. If this damn plague hasn't killed me off yet, let it give it another chance. Seems only fair."

Duncan nodded to the blond mage beside him, "Anders. Take the Teryn to see the prisoner and examine him afterwards. There will be no mistakes."

Anders nodded, glancing at Loghain appreciatively, "I can handle that."

Loghain wanted to laugh, but kept a stern face as the mage led him out of the castle and into the Wardens' camp on the outskirts of the city. He entered one of the loosely structured buildings, allowing himself to be injected with a few disinfectants.

The mage Fiona looked up at him in apprehension as she waved him to the edge of the netting separating them from the infected Howe. Loghain still felt awkward around her, even all these years after. He could still imagine Maric's touch on her, her carrying his child. Yet another who carried his ghost.

"He attacked a Warden outpost a few miles away," Fiona explained, "The plague has made him weak, it was easy to subdue him. Is he who he claims to be?"

Loghain looked through the netting, seeing the young man collapsed in the bed, his chest shaking with each rise and fall.

"Yes," Loghain nodded, "It's him."

"With the line of succession…should we tell him yet?"

Loghain bowed his head. With so many dead, he had acted as regent for these past few months. But one day, there would have to be a king again. With Anora gone now, this boy had as strong a claim as he did.

"Does it matter now?" Loghain replied, "We know the Wardens are in charge now. Does it matter what puppet they put on the throne?"

Fiona pursed her lips, "You know it's not like that."

"So you insist," Loghain responded, "But I know your army is stronger than mine. I will take what I can…for now. Keep the boy alive. When he is well…tell him his family is gone."

"And if he does not get better?"

"Burn the body. Tell no one he was here. There must be unity."

Loghain left the tent, his hand resting on its frame. He knew Maric's bastard was still alive, that all of this was a moot point. But now…now to put a Warden on the throne…

It was better if he kept pretending he didn't know.


	6. Fall 3

**3**

Mahariel could not stand being cooped up in the apartment anymore. When Tabris had arrived, bringing what was left of their groceries, she pulled her and Surana out with her for a walk around the perimeter of the city.

City life was more than she could get used to. Combined with her growing belly and a heart mourning for her mate, Juin felt herself being swept under by the chaos and noise. She had grown quieter, softer, even affectionate for the two other women she was imprisoned with. But she was alone, more alone than she ever had before. She had no family, no lineage of Keepers to look to. She was alone. The Creators, her baby, and her.

The shemlens' eyes watched her with a mixture of fear and hunger. No child born yet had survived, most dying within weeks of birth. There had been no conceptions since the plague had hit, they said. It was the Maker's mercy.

Yet she was there, round and heavy, one of those they called the Wardens' concubines. There was so much secrecy to what the Wardens did and they did nothing to refute popular opinion. What did it matter what they thought of three elven women?

They passed through the yard of the Chantry and the eyes watched her too. A sister pointed and cried out, "Repent! These are our final days! The Maker will have mercy on fornicators! Your child is a miracle, elf! Do not disregard the Maker's favour! He will take as easily as he gives! Repent if you wish your child to survive!"

Tabris put a protective arm around her, but the Dalish woman merely sneered at the Sister, feigning defiance.

But in truth, the Chantry sisters scared her, their eyes in judgment and fear of her unborn child. She saw the dread wolf in their eyes.


	7. Fall 4

**4**

Tabris was allowed into the lower levels of the cellblock, a Warden carrying a light before her as she made her way before the Qunari prisoner.

The man looked up at her mockingly and asked, "What do you want from me, bas?"

"The Teryn has allowed me to look at your wounds," she said, glaring back at him, "But you're welcome to die in this pit."

The prisoner groaned, "There are worse fates for one of the Qun."

Tabris tried again, "Please. Let me help you."

He paused, his eyes meeting hers. She did not flinch as he judged her words. He nodded briefly.

The Warden let her into the cell, watching as she knelt down beside him. His chest was sore and red, a deep gash that throbbed at her touch. To his credit, he did not flinch as she examined the wound.

"This is going to sting," she warned, pouring some alcohol onto a rag.

He said nothing as she cleaned the wound. He gritted his teeth as she sewed the skin together, only relaxing his jaw again as she wrapped his chest in bandage.

She stood to leave and he grabbed her arm. The Warden stepped forth as she turned and the gesture grew gentler, his hand almost caressing hers.

"Thank you," he murmured wearily before lying back on the ground.

She smiled gently, "You're welcome."

When Nathaniel woke, he was not entirely sure where he was. He recognized the blonde mage in his cell. Coming in and out of consciousness, he remembered that little smirk.

The Warden seemed startled as Nathaniel rose from his bench, wrapping his blanket around him.

"You're actually alive," the mage chuckled, "I guess I owe Brosca a few coppers. Not that they're worth much now. How you feeling?"

"Like I've been run over by several horses."

"That's to be expected," the mage commented, "I'm told you took a hell of a beating."

Nathaniel scowled, "I imagine you are a Grey Warden."

"Anders," the mage greeted, putting his hand out to shake.

Nathaniel ignored the gesture and said, "When am I allowed out?"

"That depends," Anders said, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, "I'm told you're to stay in Quarantine until the illness is passed. Considering I've seen a handful of people actually survive the thing, I thought that was a nice way of saying to keep you here until you died. But you seemed to actually have survived. Now I don't know what they're going to do with you."

"I was headed to Amaranthine," Nathaniel remembered, "My family-I must go-"

"The North is lost," Anders said gently, "I'm told you are the only Howe left."

"And the King?"

"All gone. Teryn Loghain is the official regent, but the Wardens have taken over the city's security. Gwaren is the only city left standing and we're walled off for the winter now. I suppose you're stuck with us."

Nathaniel's face fell as he tried to process what had been said. He pulled the blanket around his shoulders.

Anders smiled sadly, "Hey, I know it doesn't mean much...but I'm glad you made it. I didn't want to lose another one."

Nathaniel was silent as Anders left the room. It was only as the door was locked behind him that he allowed himself to cry.


	8. Fall 5

**5**

Surana nodded to her, signaling Tabris to open the door. Tabris picked up her dagger, wearing it just around her waist as she answered the knock.

Three Sisters of the Chantry stood there, bowing their heads politely.

One said with a smile, "We have heard the child is born. We would like to bless him in the name of the Maker, the One who keeps us all safe and healthy."

Tabris stated angrily, "This is a Dalish child. Born to a Dalish mother who does not want her child to lose the old ways. We appreciate the gesture, but I must ask you to leave."

"You have been warned, so often," another pleaded, "You. You are an Andrastian, are you not? You must know the child will surely die if not blessed by the Maker. You will curse them in the name of heathen gods, to suffer the Infection? Please, please, let us see this child."

"Get out of my home," Tabris ordered, "Now."

She slammed the door, locking it behind her. She went to Juin's side, who attempted weakly to rise from the bed. Tabris shook her head, helping her lie down again.

Mahariel said tiredly, "Thank you, lethalan. You both will keep him safe, I know. It is alright now to rest my eyes."

Surana cast a brief restoration spell over her as Mahariel closed her eyes. Tabris went to the foot of the bed, picking up the tiny elven child into her arms. The little boy's eyes were closed, his fingers reaching out briefly before curling into Tabris' frame.

Surana stood, rising to stand beside her.

"I don't know how we can keep her safe. Those bastards are not going to stop, are they?" Tabris admitted, "And if we resist...oh Maker. Oh so much fuss over such a wee little thing. How long until we know...you know..."

"Within a few days," Surana replied, "She'll be exposed soon enough. She'll be sick, but she'll survive. One of her parents was immune, she might be safe."

"You better be," Tabris murmured, kissing the child's forehead.

Surana walked slowly, the Wardens on either side of her watching as she climbed the stairs into the clinic.

Fiona rose as she gestured to Surana to sit.

Surana did so, waiting anxiously for Fiona to speak.

"So the child has been born?" Fiona asked, "I hear it is a boy."

"He is named Tamlen after his father," Surana said quietly.

"Do you know why I brought you here this evening?"

"I do not," she admitted.

"This child means much to the people of this city," Fiona said, pouring herself a glass of water, "You must understand that. This is the first healthy child born free of plague. And he is born to a Dalish woman who refuses to leave her room and protected by an almost treasonous elf who I'm told consorts with even the Qunari."

"I had no idea you were so religious," Surana commented.

"I'm not," Fiona said, "What I am is practical. You are a reasonable woman, Noam. Of the three of you, you have been far and away the most useful. You have been a rare treasure to study. Someone with true immunity. And you understand what needs to be done and the sacrifices we must make for the greater good."

Surana said nothing as Fiona drank from the glass and stood again.

"Let me be direct with you," Fiona said quietly, "I need you to bring me that boy. I will keep him safe and raise him among the Wardens until a cure has been found. The Chantry will bless him. I know you believe, Noam, I know you must be uncomfortable seeing such a young thing not being raised with the Maker in his heart. You are the only one who can do this for me."

Surana's heart pounded in her chest as she gasped, "And you think I would do this? To rip a child from his mother's arms? You left his father to die on the side of the road and you want me to give him to you to raise? To experiment on? To the Void with you, I will not listen to this."

Surana stood up to go, the Wardens blocking her entrance.

Fiona stood beside her, placing her hand on her shoulder before saying quietly, "If I were you, I would think much more carefully about what I said right now. You will do what is best for your country, do you understand?"

Surana said nothing as the Wardens grasped her arms and brought her back into the streets.


	9. Winter 1

_Winter_

**1**

The first snowfall caught Gwaren off guard. There was panic as the people asked where their food would come from, where their wood and fire would come from. All through the walled city, one could hear the cries of the fearful and of the shrieks of the darkspawn just beyond the walls.

Nathaniel had grown healthier, stronger, and in time was brought to stay in Loghain's chambers of the castle. The Teryn had taken a liking to him, often venturing out with him past the gates in order to hunt for food. The Teryn often shared his game with those taking refuge in his castle. Nathaniel could see he was a good man and understood why his father had spoken so highly of him.

It was there that he had met the Dalish woman he had heard so much of. She was smaller than he had imagined, but there was a ferocity in her eyes. She held her child like he was more precious than life itself. It was not romance or attraction that drew him to her, but a sense of awe.

Their friendship was tenacious, but over meals and walks, Mahariel began to trust him. On one snow heavy night as they walked through the castle, she let him hold Tamlen. The child looked up at him in curiosity and Nathaniel felt the strangest sense of love. This woman was letting him into her family.

He first heard Juin laugh when Anders attempted a lewd joke during a check up. Nathaniel blushed, watching the mage pretend to be the Teryn in a brothel, smiling as he heard Mahariel howl.

One afternoon, the cold wrapped around them, they hunted in the forests. The darkspawn had been quiet, preoccupied with the gates. Mahariel had led them, tracking down a pack of wolves.

She slew one before he could even see her work, sticking an arrow just through its eye. She knelt in the snow, praying over the carcass as Nathaniel watched silently from her side.

Mahariel picked up the body and said quietly, "The first kill after a bond mate dies is for those who are left behind. The coat I will make a blanket for the child and the meat I will leave for the hungry spirits. It is our way."

Nathaniel was shocked at this confidence and murmured, "I'm so sorry."

Mahariel said quietly, "It is good to mourn him. I am not so alone now."

She smiled at him sadly and walked towards the castle. He meekly followed.


	10. Winter 2

**2**

Sten stood upright upon seeing her, keeping his head low as the Warden allowed Tabris to his cell. They stood, gazing at each other as the Warden observed.

"You are looking healthier," Tabris commented, smiling as she put her hands on the bars of the cell, "Have you been well?"

"They have treated me...adequately," Sten replied, his hands against the door, his fingers a breath away from hers, "You are well? The new child is well?"

"All healthy," she said, chuckling, "People keep giving us food. I guess everyone is just thrilled to have a little one running around. Mahariel hates it, but I'm glad. It's good for him to feel loved."

Her face softened, "Are you warm enough down here? It's been growing cold even in the castle."

"I will be fine."

"You come from a warm country, Sten," she said, "Surely, you need-"

"I will be fine, kadan," Sten murmured, his fingers brushing against hers.

"No touching," the Warden reminded.

Tabris stepped back and said, "I'll talk to Loghain. I'll try to get you onto the second level at least."

Sten gazed at her as she was escorted away, the smile still on her face at the memory of his touch.

Loghain rubbed his forehead as he looked over the reports from the Wardens. Another four dead. They insisted the treatments were becoming more effective, but he saw only four more names.

He called for ale before sitting behind his desk.

His stewart returned with the drink and said, "There is an elven woman requesting an audience."

Loghain took a swig and nodded.

Tabris entered the room, the door closed behind her.

"How are you, my Lord?"

He scoffed, "I'm a mere puppet of a puppet. Come now, woman. Surely you have pestered me enough times to call me by my name."

Tabris smiled and said, "How are you, Loghain?"

"In truth? I have seen better days. I can only keep peace in this city for so long. We have seen only a few weeks of snow and already we have had so many deaths. I cannot open the gates to let more supplies in nor can I leave them close and let my people starve. A few hunters cannot keep us so well stocked. If we ration everything, perhaps we can survive. But how many of us will we lose?"

Tabris' face fell and Loghain sighed, "It is nothing for you to worry about. You and your companions will be protected. None within my castle will fall, I promise you."

"That is actually why I came here."

Loghain groaned, "The Qunari, again? I have been patient with you, girl. He's alive, isn't he? The Wardens haven't treated him terribly and I haven't let him starve. What more do you want?"

"He's going to freeze down there," Tabris said, "There's no one else kept on the lower level and it's winter. I know your guards aren't keeping the fires going. He's not used to the cold like we are. If he stays down there, he'll die."

"What should I care about one Qunari when I can't even keep my own people alive?" Loghain asked angrily, standing to face her.

Tabris met his gaze, refusing to back down.

He chuckled, "You care for him, don't you?"

Tabris said, "He should be given back to his people. If you won't do that, then you should let him stay in the castle. I know he will not harm any one. Please."

Loghain replied, "You know why he was brought in? He killed a man and his family. Went into a mad rage. That was a grown human man. What would stop him from ripping you apart?"

"He won't hurt me," Tabris protested.

Loghain paused and said softly, "You are a sad thing, aren't you. You actually love him."

Tabris looked away and Loghain said, "I will do as you ask. He will stay in the castle, under supervision, and when the winter breaks, I will send word to his Arishok. He will not be harmed."

She sighed, tears coming to her eyes, "Thank you."

She turned to leave and Loghain caught her wrist. She stood, her hand shaking as Loghain spoke.

"This is a trade," Loghain murmured, "I am not one who gives gifts without gain."

She hesitated, "I have nothing to trade."

"You know what I want," he said, pulling her closer to him, "You've known since I brought the three of you into my home."

She trembled and he said quietly, "Your Qunari will not survive the winter in the prison. But I am a selfish man. If he comes into this castle, he will understand who is master in this house, to whom you belong."

"I don't belong to anyone," she replied defiantly.

"It is your choice," Loghain said, letting go of her wrist.

Tabris did not run from the room, but flinched before looking up at him. As if her soul fled her body with her words, she whispered, "Okay."


	11. Winter 3

**3**

"The gates!"

Surana turned, watching as the people fought against the guards, pushing as they tried to open the gates. She ran up the stairs, climbing unto the thin path around the city. She saw the insignia first, the white sword against a grey shield. She looked for him in the crowd, begging to spot him.

She ran back down the steps as the gates opened and the caravan flooded into the streets. She ran among the wearied Templars, looking desperately for him. She thought to call his name, but she was overwhelmed, standing as the Wardens attempted to deal with the crowd.

She started crying, her body shaking in the cold, when she felt a friendly pat on her shoulder.

"There, there, dear," a soothing voice said, "There's nothing to be crying about."

Surana looked up, seeing a Dalish face smiling back at her, wiping her tears away.

"I hate to see someone crying," she chirped, "Though I suppose that happens rather a lot these days. Come on now, let's get you out of the crowd. You looked like you were looking for someone and didn't find them."

"You're very perceptive," Surana laughed, wiping her eyes.

"I've had some training to be a Keeper," she said, "Comes with the territory."

Surana paused and said, "By any chance, would your name happen to be Merrill?"

"By the dread wolf! He's beautiful!"

Merrill held Tamlen close, the infant looking up at her fondly.

"This is a very touching reunion," Tabris said, "But Noam told us you were dead."

Merrill laughed, "I nearly was. It's the strangest thing. I...I got better. I don't know what it was or how. But it was like the Creators themselves brought life back to me."

Mahariel smiled, taking Tamlen back into her arms, "Creators be praised."

Merrill sat by Mahariel and said, "I'm sure you want to know exactly how I got here. Well, you left, lethallan, and I...woke. I wandered for some time before I came across a camp of refugees. They needed protection and I provided it. It was a little strange working alongside Templars but...but these are good people. They evacuated the Tower and were moving South. We heard word of Gwaren, but it took us such a long time. We had so many sick and wounded. But we made it."

Surana asked softly, "Evacuated?"

Merrill smiled sadly, "You're from the tower, aren't you? I knew you were a mage when I saw you, I should have guessed. They say one stayed behind. They said that the Chantry would not annul the Circle if a Templar was still there. One stayed, one very brave man. They said his name was Cullen."

Surana held her hand to her mouth and Tabris held her shoulder.

Surana murmured, "He's still alive?"

Merrill nodded, "As far as I know, yes."

"I need to go to him," Surana said, turning to the door.

"Now hold on a second," Tabris reminded, "You were the one who said we should stay here. Good of the country and all that. It's going to be a messy business having all these extra mouths here. That gate isn't opening again."

"He needs me," Surana retorted, "He can't survive there on his own. He's sick, he may be dying, and he's alone. Wouldn't you do anything for that Qunari? Don't you understand? What if it was him?"

Tabris stood as if she had been slapped and Mahariel stood.

Juin said, "Listen. It is the dead of winter. You won't make it five miles. If you insist on this, you must wait until spring. And even then. What will you do? If he survives, he will survive without you. You must have faith."

Surana walked out of the door, passing a still fuming Tabris.


	12. Winter 4

**4**

It had been three weeks since the swell of refugees. It seemed as if the city had been breathed life into, only to breathe out in a dying rasp. The hunger grew and the snow fell.

Nathaniel was walking the wall of the city, his bow ready in case another darkspawn made itself apparent. He was hungry. He had known hunger, but never like this. The aching pain, the constant thoughts throughout his entire day. His hunting had not been bringing enough back, not after he shared with Mahariel, her child, and the mage. He knew there was not enough to go around. But he would not let them starve while he lived.

He made his way to the Southern most tower, to a striking view of the Frozen seas. He thought at first he was seeing things, just a fleck of black against the icy waters. But then he saw the sails of the ship, headed towards the docks.

He ran down the tower, blowing on his horn as he made his way back to the castle.

Loghain made his way down to the docks, Nathaniel and a few soldiers standing behind him. He waited as the ship anchored and a warmly-dressed woman stepped off onto the plank.

"Captain Isabela," she greeted, "I've heard you've had something of a food shortage."


	13. Spring 1

_Spring _

**1**

Tamlen was crawling by the time the snows started to melt. The gates opened as Grey Wardens from other lands arrived. The darkspawn were retreating. It looked like Ferelden might survive.

Many did not live through the winter, but the supplies from the oddly generous pirate kept many more going until the hunting was resumed. Trade started to come by sea. There was still risk of transmission, but the disease seemed to slow as the Wardens worked on their treatments. The three women were tested on extensively but still no cure was found.

Yet the seas were opening and Gwaren still stood. It was soon time for Loghain to make good on his word.

Sten had survived the winter, protected within the castle, though treated as a pariah. Tabris had seen him often, though there was always so little time. There was always another who saw them, always Loghain's watchful glance. There were no more brushes of his hand against hers. Sten did not fight for her affections. He seemed indifferent to leaving Ferelden, to leaving her.

It was slowly breaking her heart.

She had found solace in her new family. Tamlen was a delight and the cheerful presence of Merrill was a great comfort. Her and Mahariel had grown closer in intimacy, their gestures indicating that something deeper lay beneath the surface. Surana was restless, wanting to escape into the Wilds for a man she would not speak of to anyone else. But still, she was with them. She was part of her family now.

It was on the eve of the equinox that Sten informed her that he would be leaving the next evening. The Arishok had offered supplies and goods in exchange for the safe return of his soldier. The boat would arrive shortly.

She did not know what to say. Perhaps she should have been relieved. Loghain would not have this power over her...but she felt she still could not escape him. There would always be something else to trade and she had little left to offer.

She went out onto the balcony, over looking the still icy waters as she tried to collect herself. She was wiping away tears as she heard someone walk towards her and instinctively knew who was there.

"Kadan," he murmured.

"You shouldn't call me that," she replied.

"It is who you are," he said.

She turned to face him, meaning to tell him to leave, but faltered as his hand cupped her face, wiping away a tear.

"I thought you did not care," he said.

"Maker," she whispered, "You can't..."

"If you wish me to go, I will go," he said.

Her voice faltered as he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers.

"He'll kill you," she whispered.

"It would be a worthy death."

She heard her name being called and she pulled away, her hand brushing against his.

"Come with me," he said, "Come with me and he will never touch you again. Say the word, Kadan, and I will never leave your side as long as I live."

She heard her name and she went inside, seeing Mahariel wave to her. She followed, not looking back for him.


	14. Spring 2

**2**

"You need to eat something," Nathaniel reminded, pushing the satchel towards him.

"While I do enjoy your squirrel tar tar, I do have work to do," Anders quipped, writing furiously at his desk.

Nathaniel kissed the back of his neck and Anders chuckled.

"I know it may surprise you greatly, but there are other things than sex that motivate me."

"You're not going to cure the plague today," Nathaniel said, "Come on, you're skin and bones. Get something in you. You need some protein, look at you, there's hardly any muscle on you."

Anders paused, looking at his notes, before jumping off his chair and running towards the clinic.

"What?" Nathaniel asked, still holding the bag, "Is it something I said?"

Anders locked himself in the clinic. He heard Nathaniel knocking at the door and he put his hand out.

"Stay back, Nate," Anders said, "I'm about to do something incredibly stupid."

"That's exactly why I should be in there!"

"Quiet!" Anders shouted, "I think I've cured this son of a bitch!"

"Elven women don't have nearly as much body fat-sorry, you're lovely and plump-but there's natural safeguards to losing weight, there's blockers in their lymph nodes and that's when I realized that if we blocked the virus from attacking the fatty acids we could stop it from spreading. So I applied belladonna and-"

Anders paused, holding the vial in his hands as he spoke, seeing Fiona's distressed face.

"You figured this out already," he accused, the truth dawning on him, "You would have figured this out months ago...why...why would you..."

"The second week in the city," Fiona said dutifully, "It's how I was able to save your Nathaniel. The body rejects the virus if certain areas are blocked to it."

"Then what are we still doing here?" Anders laughed in shock, "We could save all of them, right here, right now."

"What do you think would happen?" Fiona asked skeptically, "That everything would just go back to how it was? The monarch is dead. There are only three biddable candidates to the throne. Ferelden will be at war within the month. The Qunari, the Orleasians, anyone could attack while we are so vulnerable."

"We're Grey Wardens," Anders said softly, "We're not supposed to be involved in politics."

"Don't be naive," Fiona chortled, "We have already agreed, Duncan and I. The antidote will be released in the general public in waves after the coronation of Alistair. Alistair will secure the country and have the Grey Wardens at his command. We will keep Ferelden safe until then."

Anders' face fell, "Alistair? Maker, I heard rumours that he was Maric's bastard but...but what about Nate? Or even Loghain? Surely-"

"The plans are already in motion, Anders. Loghain will be ousted and Gwaren must come into our control," Fiona said gently, "I appreciate what you have done here, I do. But you must remember your vows. The darkspawn need to be fought. This is the only way."

Anders froze, holding the vial in his hand out to her. She took it from him, holding his hand for a second before letting go.

"Please keep this between us," she said gently.

Anders let her walk away as he stood, looking down at his empty hand. As he made his decision, he closed his hand into a fist and walked out the door.


	15. Spring 3

**3**

He appeared at their door just after noon, appearing distraught.

"Mage," Tabris frowned, "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you," Anders said, "Let me in."

She did so, Anders closing the door behind him.

"Are you pregnant?" He asked suddenly.

"What?" She laughed, "What are you talking about?"

"I know how to cure the plague."

Her face fell, "What?"

"I need hormones from a pregnant elf. Female elves have natural blockers to protect fatty tissue. It's what's stopped you from getting sick. I need it in high doses to synthesize it so I need a pregnant elf. So I say again, are you pregnant?"

She shook her head and said, "Juin is still breastfeeding, will that help?"

"It may," Anders said, "It might work. Where is she?"

"She's in the courtyard with Tamlen. They're just going for a walk."

"You have to go get her," Anders said, "Quietly and as quickly as possible. They can't see me. If they know what I'm doing, they'll stop me."

Tabris saw his frightened expression and she nodded, "Quiet. Quick."

She closed the door behind her, locking him in their apartment. She went down the hall, keeping her eyes downcast as she made her way down the stairwell and into the courtyard of the castle.

Surana and Mahariel were sitting nearby, bundled up as Tamlen played in the remaining snow. Surana looked up, seeing Tabris shivering.

Tabris said quietly, "I need you to come inside right now. Act like nothing is wrong."

They did as she requested, Tamlen squirming as they went back into the castle. Tabris looked over her shoulder as she unlocked the door, letting them inside before shutting it.

"What's he doing here?" Mahariel bristled.

Anders said softly, "I need your help. I need to take a sample of your lymph nodes. It won't hurt, I promise. If you've been breast feeding this entire time, you may have enough hormones for me to synthesize a cure."

"You need a breast feeding elf?"

"I need a pregnant elf, but you're the best I've got."

"I can help."

The three turned to see Surana standing there, unwrapping her garments slowly.

"I had no idea when I left the tower," she smiled sadly, "Then none of the medics questioned when my periods stopped. We were starving. Of course my periods had stopped. But I already knew."

When she was down to her shift, her belly was swollen.

"You've been hiding this for nearly half a year?" Mahariel asked in amazement.

"I was scared," she whispered, "I was terrified."

"Noam," Anders said gently, "I can save a lot of lives if you help me right now. I will insert a needle into your armpit and take a sample. I can synthesize it the best I can. Then this is all over, I promise."

"You won't tell them?"

"I won't if you won't," he said with a nervous smile.

"Okay," she whispered, lifting up her arm, "Do it."


	16. Spring 4

**4**

Loghain did not speak, listening to Nathaniel and the Warden explain the situation to him. When he heard enough, he spoke quickly.

"Nathaniel," Loghain said, "You take this mage and you leave the city tonight."

"What?" Nathaniel asked, "You can't be serious, I'm not leaving you-"

Loghain's face softened, "There are only two of us left. If something happens to me...and that is likely, then you must live. Go North, get to Amaranthine. Go even to the Free Marches if Amaranthine is lost. Get this cure to the people. Let the world know what is happening here."

"I'm not leaving you to die," Nathaniel protested.

Loghain said, "You listen to me. You are my heir now. When these bastards kill me off, this is all yours. Remember everything I have taught you. I only ask one thing of you...the Elven women. Take them with you. Keep them safe. Go now. There is not much time."

The other two women packed in a frantic, Merrill holding Tamlen as she tried to find his doll. Tabris could not fathom what had been said.

She whispered to Nathaniel, "He's letting me go?"

Nathaniel nodded, a confused look across his face.

She turned to Surana and said, "Will you go too?"

Nathaniel said, "Juin has told me of your quest to the Circle Tower. I have hired the pirate Isabela to take you there tonight. Unless you have changed your mind."

Surana's eyes widened and she whispered, "Thank you."

"We have to make our way to the docks. We leave at nightfall. We cannot wait here any longer."

"I will join you," Tabris promised, "But there's something I must do first."

"I cannot wait for you," Nathaniel warned.

"I know," she said, "I will be there."

Tabris could feel the unrest in the castle as she raced up the castle stairs, making her way to Loghain's chambers. She found the door open and she entered, seeing the Teryn sitting in front of the fire, drinking straight from the bottle.

He laughed at the sight of her, "Didn't you hear? You're free, little bird. Go on. I've released you from your service. Or have you come to rub it in my face? I don't imagine you've decided to go down with the ship."

"Where is he?" She demanded.

"I would be a sore loser if I didn't tell you I suppose," he replied, looking at the bottle stoically, "He's gone already. I sent the Arishok's ship back hours ago."

Her heart pounded and he offered her the bottle.

"Here. I can hear them coming already. I know what happens to lord's whores when they are overthrown. You might as well have a last drink."

She heard the steps of soldiers and she trembled.

"Come here, girl," Loghain called.

She obliged, kneeling beside him as he tenderly cupped her face.

"Will you not give a dying man one last kiss?"

"You disgust me," she hissed.

A scream rang through the castle and they paused, listening to the sounds of the invasion.

"It will not be long now," he commented, taking another drink.

The doors slammed open and she jumped, pressing herself against the wall as Duncan entered, several Grey Wardens behind him.

"I ask you to surrender, Teryn Loghain. Give us the mage and you will live."

"I survived the Orleasian occupations," Loghain said, standing, "You don't know what I saw, what I did. I don't fear death nor you. You can go to hell."

Loghain pulled out his sword, glancing at Tabris, "I won't die a villain."

He attacked the first Warden, cutting him down easily. Tabris ran out the room as Loghain distracted them. She did not look back when she heard him fall.

Mahariel looked around anxiously, rocking a crying Tamlen. Nathaniel put his arm around her.

He said quietly, "We have to go."

She nodded, "Okay."

Tabris made it to the streets, tears streaming down her face as she tried to run to the docks. A Grey Warden saw her and she fled the other direction, running down the cobblestone path, the cool night filled with the sound of screams.

It was then she saw him.

Sten put himself between her and them, fighting them off with a stolen blade. When they were felled, she embraced him, kissing him deeply.

"You came back," she murmured.

"I never left," he said, stroking her face, "I go where you are, Kadan. Always."

He didn't say he loved her. He didn't need to.


	17. The Second Summer

_The Second Summer_

**1**

The tower seemed smaller as they crossed the lake. Surana watched as the pirate rowed them across, watching the bricks and mortar that had made up so much of her life. If someone had told her when she was child that she would willingly go back, she would not have believed them.

But eagerly she went. They had been traveling for nearly eight weeks, darting in and out of nearly abandoned fishing villages. Word came in bouts, though it was hard to know what was true. Nathaniel had claimed Amaranthine it was said. It was said he was offering refuge to any who refused to live under the imposter King's reign. The Wardens were herding people to Denerim, it was said. They were rebuilding. The Wilds were taking over the rest. Ferelden had always been a country with too few people. Now the wilderness could no longer be fought back.

Yet here on the lake, it appeared as it always had. The Tower, beyond all odds, was still standing.

Isabela helped her from the boat, her body straining at the effort. Surana was surprised she had made it the past months. She knew she was close, but she wanted to wait. He needed to be there.

If he was still alive.

They walked through the main gates together and Surana stood, catching her breath. Gone were the guards that refused her to leave, gone were the masks and shields. There merely were groups scattered throughout, chatting, washing, all looking up at her with curiosity.

One woman piped up and said, "If you want to register with Ser Cullen, he'll make sure you both have a bunk. He's just upstairs."

Surana felt faint and Isabela held her upright, smiling at her.

They climbed those last steps together, the last few paces of a long journey. They entered the makeshift office, a few children running past them.

He looked years older, blearily looking over papers on Gregoir's old desk. It took him a moment to look up and see them.

His mouth dropped and Surana could not help but beam. Isabela stepped back as he stood, walking to close the distance between them. His hand went to her protruding belly, holding as the baby kicked in response.

"She knows her father," Surana laughed, trying not to cry.

He held her to him, his chin resting on the top of her head. He leaned down, their foreheads touching lightly.

"Welcome home," he whispered.

**The End**


End file.
